And by "Curious", I mean pipe smoking

Yet another super fun Maya and Mama day for the books. Or the blog. Or whatever.

We went to see Curious George today. This was Maya's first movie in a theatre, and I was worried that my sweet little angel would be an awful little devil, but she was so enraptured with the movie and how big the screen was that she didn't make a peep, except to ask for more popcorn. She did cry at the end of the movie, but not because it was sad, only because she wanted "more George! I want more George!"

The movie was an interesting modern spin on the old H.A. Rey classics. The original Curious George story has the Man in the Yellow Hat actually stealing George out of the African jungle by trapping him in a bag. When they arrive in the Big City, George has a good meal (picture includes a wine bottle), a good pipe (I swear there is even a picture of him lounging in an armchair puffing on a pipe), and then he's ready for bed. Come to think of it, there is an awful lot of pipe smoking going on this book. Animal stealing, drinking, smoking. . . sounds like a prize winning kids' story. Why the hell do we read this to kids? Because that silly little monkey is always getting into some crazy shenanigans, Three's Company style.

Next we hit Michael's to find some super soft yarn and circular knitting needles to make sweet Baby Tyler a hat. Maya helped choose the yarn, and that took slightly less time than Creation itself, as we had to feel every single yarn in her reach, to make sure we got the softest stuff for Baby Tyler's head.

Today was also Maya's first trip to the dentist. We talked a lot about it beforehand, so she was fired up to go. No, really, the poor child was honestly excited about going to the dentist. I had my teeth cleaned first, and the hygenist explained to her exactly what she was doing. Then it was Maya's turn in the chair. Normally for a first visit they just count the child's teeth, give them a ride on the chair, and let them pick a prize from the prize box. But that wasn't enough for Maya. She wanted to have a full teeth cleaning, including polishing, floshing, and a fluoride treatment.

The hygenists and dentists were amazed that she sat through it all, and thus earned THREE prizes. I'll rubbing the grease marks off the wall from her pink sticky hand for a while, but that's ok. My little girl likes the dentist.

Now if only we could get Daddy to be that brave. He'd need a separate prize box, though. A prize box filled with things you'd find in an original Curious George story.

Close lid, THEN flush!

Today was a blissful, relaxing family day at home. Mostly.

It started and ended innocently enough. It was declared Family PJ Day, so none of us got dressed until late in the day. Maya didn't even get dressed until 7pm when we went to the neighbour's for coffee (lazy girl!). This morning was spent by the fire, me knitting a kitchy kerchief, Eric playing the guitar, and Maya alternating between wildly shaking her booty to Daddy's music and experimenting with her slide to see how many different ways she can get down it (for those keeping score at home, she stopped when she got to 8).

Eric decided he had enough of me gently suggesting that we go out for some family fun and decided I should go shopping by myself for some new clothes, maybe even get a manicure. Really, I know that he wanted some uninterupted XBox time, but you know, part of being a good spouse is being agreeable occasionally. And today, that meant going shopping. So I oh, so begrudgingly got myself ready. And that's when it all went down the toilet. Literally.

Let's pause for a moment and flash back three years to when I was with child and accidentally dropped my glasses into the toilet as it was flushing. I couldn't get the glasses out, the toilet started to back up, and then an unnamed family member visited and made good use of said toilet. Dad came over, took the toilet apart, and with some huffing, puffing, and a few choice words, he was able to retrieve them for me. Keep in mind I was pregnant at the time and had an extreme case of pregmentia. I didn't want to wear poopy glasses on my face, so I had to disinfect them and what better way to disinfect plastic glasses than to boil them. Yeah, they melted. Let's just say that Dad did a lot more huffing and puffing and left soon after.

So what does that trip down memory lane have to do with today? Well, I was trying to multi-task and flushed the toilet while I changed the toilet paper roll (SOMEBODY in this house has to!) and the roll holder fell into the toilet as it was flushing. Maybe it's time we rethink our plan to NOT childproof the toilet. It sure seems that one of the girls in the house needs to be kept away from the flusher. And Dad, if you're reading this, don't worry, we're not asking for your help on this one.


This evening I shared a deeply intellectual conversation with Maya over fruit snacks. We decided after many taste tests that strawberry is a superior flavour to blueberry. It was during this confectionary colloquy that we discovered Maya's new talent: storytelling. Luckily for me, I had the camera handy to preserve the moment to share with everyone on her wedding day. I wish there was some way to attach the file to the blog, but until I figure that out, I'll give you the Cole's Notes version: Once upon a time, there was a boy named Robin. He got stuck in the mud. His friends helped him out. The End. True, it's not Pullitzer Prize winning yet, but the story has characters, a problem, and resolution, which is more than I can say for most of my students' writing.

What have I learned today? 1. Blogging is tasty when done with Lucky Charms. 2. Close the lid before you flush. 3. Teach my poor students how to write better stories.

Clifford Saves the Day

Maya loves her mama. It's all in the little things she does. Like yesterday, for instance. She slept in until 8:30am, which gave me a little extra time to linger over a latte with Eric. Such a sweet little girl. It's a good thing I did have that extra caffeine, though...

Maya and I tried our hand at geocaching in the morning. We went to the park at the local library, which laughably is referred to as "a beautiful lakeside setting" by the hotel that is also on the park. It's gross duck pond on swampy grass where local kids gather to smoke pot and drop scads of f-bombs . Beautiful. Lakeside. In any case, we tried to find the cache, but to no avail. We searched through bushes and trees and finally left before one of the locals called the police for our suspicious behaviour. We'll have to return in the evening with Eric so that we'll blend in with everyone else and look suspicious just with our mere presence.

Dejected and hungy, we hit Save On for a quick grocery shop that may or may not have included a warehouse-sized box of Lucky Charms. Then we went swimming at the Leisure Centre where Maya shrieked with glee and I terrified young children with my cellulite. A good time had by all. After swimming, we had a quick lunch and I took my second nap of Spring Break, this time with my daughter. Unbenownst to me, my cell phone was ringing off the hook (how I missed the Beastie Boys' Sabotage three times is beyond me) and my doorbell was ding-donging away. Seems that Ted (next door neighbour) had sunk his truck in an enormous puddle on the Fraser River dyke and needed some help. When Eric came home, we loaded up in the truck with tow straps and our camera to go and help. Poor Ted was soaked up to his knees and freezing his arse off.



Clifford the Big Red Truck was able to tow out the truck with no problems.



Ted's truck, however, was so waterlogged that it had to be towed back home. It's now half way in the road, as Patricia and I pushed it out of the garage this morning, only to have it go a wee bit too far before she could get the brake to work. It's still sitting there now at 5:05pm, waiting for a tow-truck from ICBC to come and get it. Who knew that bone-headed husband stunts were covered by ICBC as a single car accident? I wonder if they'll cover an accident from someone hitting a truck that is partly in the road? Time will only tell.

Ft. Lauderdale, here I come!

Ah, Spring Break. A venerable cornocopia of boozing, dancing, beaches, and general debauchary. Good, clean fun without any regrets...

Oh, wait, I forgot. I'm pushing 30, a wife, a mother, and a teacher. These days, Spring Break is a venerable cornocopia of sleeping in until 7am, catching up on laundry, playdough, fingerpaint, and the local rec centre. Maybe I'll get to sneak in a beer after Maya is in bed, but chances are, I'll be snoring on the couch next to Eric by 8:30pm.

Sounds awful? Not in the least. I wouldn't have it any other way.